Is There A Ghost
by x0clairedelunex0
Summary: Claudia visits the dreams of people who have affected her life, leaving not just a memory, but a message.
1. Kate

**Is There A Ghost**

_Chapter One: Kate_

Kate Howard's eyes opened to a street that she had driven down before, but she couldn't remember the name of it. The sun shone brightly above her, its beams cascading down to earth and making the pavement beneath her feet shine. She felt warm and safe, and around her, things were going about as they normally did in Port Charles. People were walking their dogs, mothers were keeping watchful eyes on their children—in fact, everything seemed brighter and more pleasant than the usual down-and-out mood of the town she called home. Kate was enveloped with a feeling that nothing could go wrong, that even if her life wasn't perfect, today was going to be a beautiful one.

But the sunny day, full of love and laughter, quickly changed. The skies darkened, revealing thick clouds that opened and let rain fall everywhere. The people around her vanished, and she was all alone, her feeling of hopelessness gone with the sun. She knew that she must be soaked, but she couldn't feel it. All she could feel was loss and despair, like there was no purpose of moving forward.

A sound in the distance caught her attention. Her feet began moving of their own accord towards an alley that hadn't been there a second ago. The sound that Kate had heard continued on a loop, almost like a broken record, and as she kept walking, she started to realize what it was. It was a gunshot, one that would be imprinted in her brain for the rest of her life.

The alley dissolved quickly, and was replaced by a memory that Kate knew she would never lose. She was in the warehouse, watching Sonny and Michael bond over something that wasn't criminal. In her heart she felt hope, that Sonny would be able to give up his life of crime and teach his son real values. Michael was grinning from ear to ear as he maneuvered the lever. The moment was perfect. Why did it have to end so soon?

Just like he had before, Sonny glanced up into the rafters of the warehouse and his face dropped immediately at what he saw. Without thinking, he flung himself on top of Kate as the familiar gunshot sounded in the room.

Kate took a moment to collect her thoughts when she realized what had happened. Sonny's weight was off of her and he was bending over someone on the other side of the warehouse. Kate picked herself up and came over, but what she saw next ended what had once been a memory. Instead of Michael's body bleeding at her feet, it was Claudia's.

This sudden change in a part of her life that she knew so well shocked Kate to her very core. What was Claudia doing here? It was Michael who was supposed to have been shot. And it was Claudia's fault. Why had the events changed?

Kate looked up at the rafters to see where the shot had come from. In her memory, she hadn't seen a face, but in this twisted version of events, she did. But it wasn't Ian who looked down on the scene. It was Claudia.

Everything around her went black, the distorted memory gone. As Kate stood there in the darkness, she contemplated what she had just seen. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out; Claudia had sealed her own fate by hiring Ian to shoot Sonny. The bullet in Michael's head had become her death sentence.

The darkness evaporated into another familiar scene: a corridor in General Hospital. It was empty, except for Sonny, standing at the end of the hall, his hands in his pockets and an unreadable expression on his face. Kate looked down and saw that she was holding a DVD case with a mysterious disk inside. Her brain told her that she was on a mission, that she needed to get this DVD to Sonny before anyone else's lives were ruined. But when she took a step forward, Sonny didn't become any closer. In fact, it was as if he was moving farther away. She took another step. The same thing happened. She broke into a brisk walk, and then a run. Nothing was working. Sonny would never know. Michael would never get the justice he deserved.

Even though Kate knew it was futile, she continued running, Sonny still out of her reach. She felt a presence appear next to her and beg, "Please, Kate, give Sonny the DVD. Let him kill me." Kate stopped running and turned around to see Claudia standing in front of her, a picture of death, literally. She was wearing the same silver dress that she had worn the night of her birthday, her dark hair matted with blood. Her brown eyes were wild with desperation and loss. The hospital hallway dissolved around them, teleporting them to Kate's bedroom. Kate sat on her bed, while Claudia stood at the foot of it, continuing her pleading.

"Why didn't you give Sonny the DVD? He would've killed me on the spot. I wouldn't have had to suffer. I wouldn't have had to feel my baby die inside of me. I could've died before having to look into Michael's eyes every day and knowing what I did to him. And now he has to carry my murder on his shoulders. You could've stopped this. Why didn't you tell Sonny sooner? Why, Kate? Why?"

Kate couldn't take it anymore. She didn't care that Claudia was dead; if anything, it had actually done the world good. But she had let everyone else suffer by not telling Sonny about the DVD sooner. Sonny had had to live with Claudia for months. Michael had endured more than anyone his age should have to, all at the hands of Claudia. And that innocent little baby had been brought into this world, only to be taken from it just as quickly. If she had just acted sooner…

"You could've made so many lives better, but you didn't. Why, Kate? Why make me and everyone else suffer? What held you back? Why didn't you finish me when you had the chance?"

*

Kate awoke suddenly, her head pounding and her heart racing. Her room was pitch black. The clock on her bedside table said 10:29. 10:29. Claudia's birthday.

Kate whipped her neck around towards the end of the bed, but no one stood there. She was alone, or so she thought.

It couldn't possibly be 10:29. She hadn't gone to bed until after eleven. Her clock must just be wrong. That had to be it. It was impossible for that to be the time.

But as Kate sat there, staring at the clock, she started to realize that the time remained the same. She had sat there for more than a few minutes, but the glowing red numbers didn't change. Kate shook her head, trying not to freak herself out. It was late, and she had just had a nightmare. It was just her lack of sleep getting to her.

But even as she said this to herself, laying her head back on the pillow and closing her eyes tight, she could've sworn, out of the corner of her eye, that she saw a familiar DVD sitting on her bedside table, the numbers from the clock illuminating the disk in the night.


	2. Nikolas

_Chapter Two: Nikolas_

As Nikolas walked into one of the many parlors of Wyndemere, he knew immediately that something wasn't right. There was just one problem: he couldn't figure out what it was.

He stood in the middle of the room, turning slowly so that he could get a good look at his surroundings. All of the plush chairs and couches were in their place. The priceless rugs on the floor didn't have so much as a coffee stain on them. The curtains were open, revealing a cloudless night, the stars and moon shining brightly in the sky. Every book was just where he had left it, gathering dust from lack of being read. The little knick-knacks that he and generations of Cassadines had acquired in their long history remained in their proper places, some useless and others a bit frightening. The lamp on the desk shone dimly on his many papers and files, not one of them out of place.

Nikolas took a closer look at everything. No drawers were even the slightest bit open, there wasn't a scratch to be seen on the wood floors, and the windows were as clear as if there was nothing there. Everything was as it should be. So why did he get the feeling that there was something wrong?

"Are you looking for something?" asked a voice. Nikolas looked up to see Claudia at the door, quite a sight to behold. She looked exactly like she had when they had first met. She was wearing black jeans, a white top, and a black jacket, her shirt stained with blood on her abdomen. She was soaking wet, from her head to her toes, but she didn't seem to notice her current state of disaster. In fact, she looked genuinely concerned about what Nikolas was trying to find.

Nikolas shook his head, trying to get back to the matter at hand. Claudia didn't seem bothered by the blood on her shirt, and Nikolas had more important things to worry about. "Yes," he said, walking over to her. "Something's not right, and I need to figure out what it is."

"Something's not right with what?" asked Claudia, taking one step through the door.

"This room," said Nikolas, gesturing about himself. "There's something off about it. Can't you tell?"

Claudia looked around, as Nikolas had, trying to see what he was talking about. "I don't see anything wrong."

"I don't know how to explain it," said Nikolas. "Everything's where I left it, but something's just…I don't know…out of place."

"Hmm," said Claudia thoughtfully, walking around. Nikolas watched her like a hawk as she circled each chair, peeked behind the curtains, and looked over his desk. But she seemed just as baffled as him.

"Anything?" he asked hopefully.

Claudia shook her head. "No. But I see what you mean. There is something here that seems like it doesn't belong."

Nikolas was glad that someone else could see it, even someone as crazy as Claudia. "But what, though? What could it be?"

Claudia shrugged. "I don't know. Ask Sonny."

Nikolas just stared at her. What had she said? "Ask Sonny? Why?"

"Or Jason," Claudia answered, still looking around and ignoring his question. "I'm sure they'll know what to do."

"Why would I ask either one of them?" Nikolas questioned, growing concerned. "How would they know?"

"They'd be able to fix it," Claudia answered with confidence. "They fix everything. All you have to do is ask them."

"But I don't want to ask Jason or Sonny," Nikolas insisted fervently, and as the word came out of his mouth, he realized that he didn't understand them. He wasn't exactly on good terms with Port Charles's biggest mobsters, but this was something else. He had a feeling inside him that he couldn't tell Jason or Sonny, that if he did, they would make the problem worse, not better. He thought of other people he could ask: Lucky, Lulu, Alfred, Elizabeth…but he didn't want to ask them either. He wanted the answer from Claudia, but he couldn't explain why. He wasn't overly fond of her, and they'd only really exchanged words a few times. Why did he need for her to tell him what was going on? Why couldn't he ask anyone else, especially Jason and Sonny?

"I think you should ask them," said Claudia. "They'll make the problem go away. They always do."

"But if I tell them, they'll kill me," said Nikolas, once again not understanding the words that came out of his mouth. Why would Sonny and Jason kill him? He hadn't done anything. But he kept talking, having no control over his words. "It was all my fault. I caused the problem."

"No, you didn't," said Claudia. "I did, and I'm gonna help you fix it."

"But I thought you wanted Jason and Sonny to fix it," said Nikolas, confused.

"I do," Claudia agreed. "But you don't, so I'll help you. It's my fault anyway."

For some reason, Nikolas couldn't argue with what she said. Instead he suggested, "Let's look at everything together. Maybe we can figure something out that way."

"We don't need to do that," said Claudia. Nikolas looked at her closely, and saw that her eyes had glazed over, like she was in another world. "I know what's wrong. You just weren't looking hard enough."

Nikolas couldn't stay on her train of thought. She was raving like a crazy person, which, in fact, she was. "But you said you didn't know what was wrong."

"I know," said Claudia, "but I figured it out."

"Okay," said Nikolas, anxious for answers. "What is it?"

Claudia turned away from him, facing the desk. "The lamp."

That wasn't what Nikolas was hoping for. "The lamp? The lamp is fine. It's always been there."

"No, it's out of place," Claudia insisted, walking over to it. "It's not supposed to be on. It's supposed to be dark in here." She reached out her hand and pulled the chain under the shade, plunging her and Nikolas into total darkness.

Nikolas breathed a sigh of relief. Claudia had been right. The lamp wasn't supposed to be on. The room needed to be pitch black. If it wasn't, then everything would change, it seemed. The balance of the world would be thrown off. The light needed to be off.

But even as Nikolas contemplated this, another thought popped into his head. He didn't like the room to be dark. Everything was in its place when it was, yes, but he didn't like it. He liked the light. It didn't fit in with everything else, but it needed to be there. It needed to shine. He didn't know what he would do without it.

"Turn the light back on," he ordered Claudia.

Nothing happened. He didn't hear Claudia shift to follow his commands, and the room remained dark. "I said, turn the lamp on, Claudia."

"No," she said simply. "No one likes the light."

"I do," Nikolas implored. "I love the light. It's not supposed to be here, but I love it. Please, turn it on."

"No one likes the light but us," said Claudia, and Nikolas heard a strain in her voice that wasn't there before. "When I turn the light on, everybody hates me."

"I don't," said Nikolas, meaning it. "I like you when the light is on." As the last word rolled off his tongue, the room was illuminated by the lamp's glow. Nikolas had the feeling of something being out of place again, but he didn't mind it this time.

*

Nikolas awoke with a start. That had been one of the weirdest dreams he'd ever had, and after all those visions of Emily after she died, that was saying something. What was with Claudia, her shirt all bloodied and her body soaking wet? And the lamp? What was that all about?

Nikolas opened his eyes all the way, and realized that he had fallen asleep at his desk, his work, half-finished, laying out in front of him. The black ink on the papers jumped out at him instantly, and he was hit with a sudden bolt of memory and realization.

The night when Claudia had washed up on Spoon Island penetrated his brain, his mental wall unable to block it out. She had been high on meds, exhaustion, and pain, and she had uttered her darkest secret: she had ordered the hit on Sonny that had gotten Michael shot instead. And Nikolas had revealed something that night as well: he had been using Ian Devlin to get illegal drugs that would let him see his beautiful Emily. He had promised to keep her secret, for fear of Jason or Sonny finding out about his. That explained why, in his dream, he hadn't wanted to get them involved in the situation. But why had the light been the problem? And what did Claudia have to do with anything.

The truth slowly and painfully made its way to the surface of his brain. While he'd never admit it to anybody, there had been some attraction between him and Claudia while she had healed here. He had seen a side of her that he didn't think was possible in anyone of her position. She had joked, laughed, and even tried to help him when he had fallen off his horse, despite her own tender injuries. There was a light in that dark soul, but no one seemed to want to believe that it was there, especially her.

Nikolas shoved the dream to the side, focusing his thoughts mainly on Claudia. While she may have deserved what was coming to her, he wished that people had gotten a chance to see her light before they dismissed her as a lying and conniving slut. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe she'd still be alive.

And maybe (and this thought surprised him completely) they would have been able to continue from where they left off.


	3. Spinelli

_Chapter Three: Spinelli_

Spinelli could never remember feeling more confident about himself than he did now. Jason had let him do an assignment on his own, and, for once, it wasn't something that he needed a computer for. No, this was the real thing. A real mob mission.

This newfound confidence that Spinelli had acquired seemed to give him skills that he had never before possessed. Instead of bumbling through the back alleys of the harbor and making all sorts of commotion like he usually would have, Spinelli was creeping as silently as a mouse, never slipping or loosing his footing on the damp pavement. He also had a sense of direction. He knew exactly where he was going and didn't even consider the possibility of taking a wrong turn. In his right hand he carried a revolver, but he had no worries of shooting himself in the foot or anything else that he would normally do. He felt exactly like he did when he was navigating cyberspace—invincible, untouchable, and the best.

But despite these great feelings inside him, Spinelli couldn't help but feel nervous and anxious. His knowledge of the mission at hand only went so far. He knew where he was supposed to go: Warehouse 28 on Pier 6. And he knew what he needed: a gun. But he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do when he got there. Jason said he would figure it out, but right now, Spinelli remained lost about what was waiting for him when he arrived.

Because of his supreme navigating skills, Spinelli reached the warehouse in no time. He placed one shaking hand on the door, while the other gripped the revolver firmly. In one swift movement, he opened the door of the warehouse, and what he saw was not what he had expected.

It was Claudia, and he had never seen her in such a state. Her usual air of confidence and toughness was gone. She looked downright frightened. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and her skin was pasty, like she hadn't seen the sun in years. She was sitting on the floor of the otherwise empty warehouse, her right wrist handcuffed to a pipe that ran along the wall. When she saw Spinelli enter, her face changed from scared to relieved faster than a traffic light.

The second Spinelli walked into the warehouse, he knew what his mission was. Jason had sent him here to kill Claudia because she had been responsible for Michael's shooting. But even as his objective became clear, Spinelli didn't know what to do.

Claudia may have been mean, ignorant, and, to put it simply, a bitch to pretty much everyone, Spinelli had always seen the little good in her that there was. When he had been stuck in the penthouse with her and Jason, she had been nice to him, even patient with him. Even Sonny wasn't patient with Spinelli, and they were supposed to be on the same side. But Claudia was essentially the enemy, and his little quirks and annoyances didn't seem to faze her. She really did have the potential to be a good person, but no one seemed to want to look hard enough for it. She had never meant for Michael to get shot. Spinelli was confident on that fact. And he saw how protective she was of Johnny, and how much she loved him and cared for him. No, she wasn't as bad a person as everyone made her out to be. She didn't deserve to die.

But on the other hand, Jason had sent him here to do this job. Jason trusted him to get it done right, and Spinelli couldn't fail his master. All those years of cyber assistance had brought him to this point: to really do something useful for the organization. Was he really going to pass up this opportunity just because Claudia might, deep down, be a good person? Why should she, who had really done nothing to ever help him, stop him from following Jason's orders? Why should he care whether she meant or didn't mean for Michael to get shot? He still had been, hadn't he? And hadn't she tried to deny the fact for a year and a half, not caring who got hurt along the way? No, she didn't deserve his mercy. He'd follow Jason's orders and finish the job. That was the way it should be.

As he raised his gun to take the fatal shot, Claudia's face became horrified when she realized what was happening. "No, Spinelli, please!" she begged, tears streaming down her pale face. "Please, let me go! I didn't mean to do it, I swear! I thought we were friends! You know I'm not a bad person! Please don't do this!"

Spinelli couldn't ignore her pleading. They were friends, weren't they? They were nice to each other, and accepted each other's differences. Why should she die for Ian's mistake? It wouldn't change anything. The year Michael lost of his life wouldn't come back, and the violence would never stop. It wouldn't do anything but add another body to the count.

Spinelli started to lower is weapon, but was jolted out of his thoughts when the warehouse door slammed open behind him to reveal a disheveled Jason. "Come on, Spinelli," he ordered. "Do it. Kill her."

Spinelli turned back around. He couldn't disobey Jason. He raised the gun again, but Claudia wouldn't stop screaming. "No, please! It wasn't my fault! You know it wasn't, Spinelli! Don't listen to Jason!"

"Just shoot, Spinelli," said Jason from behind him. "She got Michael shot. She deserves to die."

"Please, don't! I'm begging you! It was an accident, I swear!"

"She never gave a damn about what happened to Michael. To her, it was nothing."

"I would never have done anything to hurt him! It was Ian, not me!"

"Do it, Spinelli."

"No, please!"

"Now."

"I'm begging you!"

Spinelli couldn't decide what to do. His head hurt from thinking about both sides of the story at the same time. Who was right, Jason or Claudia? Who did he listen to? What did he do? Why couldn't he just make a decision?

He couldn't take it anymore. Without thinking, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, not wanting to see what would happen.

*

The sound of the gunshot in his dream awakened Spinelli back into reality. He sat up on the couch where he had dozed off, his laptop glowing on the coffee table, the only light in the dark living room.

Spinelli shook himself and sat up straight, trying to sort it all out. Had the dream been some type of message? Had his actions of helping Jason find Ian's tapes made him an accessory to Claudia's murder? Of course it had. If Jason hadn't found the proof, he wouldn't have been able to kill Claudia. It was all Spinelli's fault. His innocent search to make his master happy had resulted in yet another death in Port Charles.

Spinelli leaned in closer to his laptop, closing the window he had open and going to his documents. He rooted through them until he found what he was looking for: his digital versions of Ian's tapes.

With a swift click of his mouse and without another thought, Spinelli deleted these evil files, erasing them from his computer and his memory.

Because he never wanted to accept that he had killed his Vixenella.


	4. Jerry

_Chapter Four: Jerry_

How he'd managed to do it this time, Jerry had no idea. He was used to escaping near-death situations without a scratch, but he had really prepared himself to die this time. In fact, he had almost been hoping for it. He really did get tired of all these games he played. But if he didn't play them, life wouldn't seem to have a purpose.

Jerry had just conducted another hostage situation, this time in a bank instead of a hotel. It had gone according to plan, for the most part. There were about fifty people inside, customers and employees alike, and he'd managed to steal almost one hundred million dollars. The only flaw was that one of his assistants, Red (he now referred to them by colors instead of numbers, to keep things interesting), had prematurely detonated the bomb that wasn't supposed to go off until Jerry was safely outside the building. But it had, and Jerry had really thought that it was the end. Until he was facedown on the pavement, the police too preoccupied with the innocent victims to look through the rubble to find him. Jerry felt like a cat with nine lives, but couldn't remember how many he had left.

Now, he was back at his base, a small office that could only be entered through a secret door in one of Port Charles's abandoned warehouses. He was turning on his laptop in order to keep track of the money he had stolen while it was transferred into one of his offshore accounts. As he sat and waited for the computer to load completely, an icon at the bottom of his screen caught his eye. He had never seen it before. It was just a bright red circle sitting at the bottom right-hand corner. He double clicked on it, and what came up almost gave him a heart attack.

Claudia's smirking face glared at him from the screen, while the line at the bottom with the dot moving along it indicated it was a video. Jerry hastily checked the DVD drive on his computer. It was empty.

"I can only imagine the look on your face right now," said Claudia from the computer. Jerry just watched in shock. "I'm supposed to be dead, right?" She laughed menacingly. "You were supposed to be dead, too, lots of times. But you still got those DVDs to me. You made my life an even bigger living hell than it already was. I jumped at every small noise. I spent my whole day looking for those frigging videos. I slept with one eye open every night, in case Sonny found one instead and decided to kill me in my sleep. So now, I get to let you feel the same way. You don't know if I'm alive or dead, do you? And if I'm alive, you don't know where I am. I could be anywhere. I could be in Milan. I could be in the city. Or I could be in Port Charles. You never know."

After all of those stunts that Jerry had pulled in his life, he had never felt more scared than he did now. While he had never let Claudia get the best of him, and while he always had tried to think one step ahead of her, he wasn't playing by his rules anymore. The Claudia on his laptop was right. He didn't know if she was really dead. If she was, how could this have gotten on his computer? And if she was alive, which he was starting to believe, even though he couldn't fathom how, where was she? Was she close, watching him as he sat in terror at this very moment? Or was she far away, laughing at how scared he must be at something that couldn't hurt him right now? He may have gotten her involved with Ian, stabbed her, and tortured her for those long months with his DVDs, but Jerry never thought he would underestimate the power of Claudia Zacchara.

"I want you to know that your DVDs did end up being the death of me, but not in the way you think. As far as I know, neither Sonny nor Jason ever saw one. But they had made Jason suspicious. They made him dig and find Ian's tapes. So, whether you wanted to or not, you killed me, Jerry. You probably don't care, but I do. And I'm not gonna let you get away with it."

Jerry couldn't take this madness anymore. He slammed his laptop closed and shot out of his chair faster than a rocket. He shoved by his desk and bookcases, knocking things to the ground as he went, and pulled open the door with an almighty heave. But he couldn't escape. Claudia wouldn't let him.

"How's it feel, Jerry?" the real Claudia asked him maliciously, walking towards him with purpose in her step. "This is kind of like how I died. I couldn't escape. I was in this little corner with nowhere to go. And that's how you're gonna die. You're gonna see exactly what it's like to be tortured until the very end. And you hear that?" Claudia stopped, holding a hand up to her ear in a mocking way. "That's the sound of nobody caring. That's the last thing I heard before I died." Without warning, Claudia pulled a pocketknife out of her back pocket and sunk it into Jerry's stomach.

*

Jerry awoke with a start. He was in his little secret office, slumped over his desk in exhaustion. He never had nightmares. He usually was the nightmare. But now he knew how it felt, and he didn't like it.

Even though it was just a dream, Jerry couldn't help wondering if Claudia was still alive. From what he had heard, it was pretty much guaranteed that she was dead, but no one should ever put anything past her. She was as dangerous as they come, and never gave up without a fight.

Jerry turned to his laptop, which had still been open when he had fallen asleep. He checked the DVD drive. Nothing. He looked at the bottom right-hand corner of his screen. No mysterious red icon. He went through all of his files, especially his videos. Nothing seemed to be there that wasn't supposed to be.

But as he searched for something from Claudia, he couldn't help but delete the videos that had caused her death.

Because you can never be too certain when someone will come back to haunt you.


	5. Ric

_Chapter Five: Ric_

When Ric reached the door of his Los Angeles apartment and was about to take out his keys, he noticed something. His door was already open a crack, revealing that someone had been inside between the time he had left for work and now. And they might still be in there.

Ric cautiously opened the door all the way, wary of a burglar or someone from Port Charles who might want to get even. He took one step inside and looked around, trying to see if anything was out of place. The living room looked just as it always did: a complete mess, since he was never home to actually care about it looking any different. Leftovers from last night's midnight Chinese run were still on the coffee table, the remote to the flat screen television sitting next to them, a drop of soy sauce covering the power button. The wool blanket that he had but couldn't explain why remained shoved in the corner of his leather couch. There was little artwork on the walls, and absolutely no pictures of friends (since he didn't really have any) or family. The way things looked, Ric realized that someone could have come in and stolen something, because he wasn't in his apartment enough to really see anything that wasn't right.

Ric proceeded through his living room and to the swinging door of the kitchen, which he peeked into quickly. It was the cleanest room in the house, since it was never used, and held no unwelcome visitor. Ric proceeded down the hall to the bathroom. Toiletries and towels littered the place, but, again, nothing suspicious. Finally, Ric reached his bedroom, and the mystery of the break-in was solved.

Claudia, the last person he ever expected to visit him, was sitting in the armchair in the corner of his room. She had on her usual uniform of black, which consisted of a tank-top, jeans, and knee-high boots. Her hair was straight and smooth, and she had a (dare he say it?) pleasant look on her face, like she was at peace with something. The other odd thing about her appearance was what was in her arms. It was easily noticeable against the black. It was a white bundle of some kind that she was holding close to her body, like she was protecting it.

"Claudia, what are you doing here?" Ric asked, shocked. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Where did you hear a rumor like that?" asked Claudia with a light chuckle.

Ric shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. "It's the truth. You got struck over the head or something. I'm not gonna lie; you did have it coming to you."

"I'm not dead, Ric," said Claudia calmly. "Isn't me being here enough to prove it to you?"

Whatever, Ric thought. He'd go along with it. He was probably just going crazy, but at this point in his life, he didn't care. "Of course you would break in, though. It's too much for you to call and ask to drop by when I'm home."

"I didn't break in," said Claudia, her voice not sounding insulted in the least. "You leave a key in the plant outside your door. Everyone does. It was surprisingly predictable of you."

"Well, however you got in," said Ric, ignoring the voices in his head that were telling him he was insane, which he was, "what do you want?"

"I wanted you to meet somebody," said Claudia, her smile stretching from ear to ear. She stood up, cradling the little white bundle, and walked over to Ric, who could finally get a good look at what she was holding. What he saw stopped his heart for a good second.

Peeking out from the bundle was the face of a baby that couldn't be more than a week old, his little eyes closed as innocent dreams ran through his mind. The ring finger of his left hand was in his mouth, while the other hand was curled around his ear. He was the most precious baby that Ric, who had a heart of ice, had ever seen.

"This is RJ," said Claudia, sounding more proud than Ric had ever heard her before.

Ric reluctantly took his eyes off the baby to look at Claudia and ask, "What does RJ stand for?"

Claudia smiled again. "Richard John."

Ric's mouth gaped in shock and realization. Of course Claudia would find a way to put John somewhere in her baby's name. She loved and idolized her baby brother to such a point that it couldn't possibly be healthy. But there was only one reason why Richard would have even been considered for a name, first or middle.

This was Ric's son.

Of course, it all made sense. Ric had had a sense that the baby Claudia had been carrying at the time of his departure had been his, but Claudia had been hell-bent on proving that Sonny was the father. It was more hopes than actual truth, but could Ric really blame her? If the baby had been his, Sonny would have kicked her out, no question. Not to mention that if he learned Claudia's secret, he wouldn't think twice about killing her. That must be why she had dropped by so suddenly. She didn't have another place to go except the baby's father's.

"Can I hold him?" Ric asked, extending his arms. Without a word, Claudia placed the baby, blankets and all, into his arms. Ric felt pride and love start to gush through his veins. He normally wasn't so mushy, but he couldn't help it. He had a son, a beautiful son. He could stop being rigid for something like this.

The moment seemed to last forever, and was only interrupted when Claudia's cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, looked at the screen, smiled, and answered it. "Hey, sweetie, what's up?" Ric looked up from his son's face, trying to figure out who she was talking to. "Visiting a friend….Yeah, I have RJ….Okay, yeah….I'll be there soon." She hung up the phone and turned to Ric, an apologetic smile on her face. "That was Sonny. I need to go." She grabbed RJ out of Ric's hands before he could even react. He stood there, stunned, as she started to head for the door, but came to his senses before she walked out of the room.

"You can't just introduce me to my son and then take him away from me," he said, standing his ground.

Claudia laughed. "Your son? What made you think RJ was yours?"

Ric couldn't believe this. "Besides the fact that you named him Richard?"

"Richard was the name of the doctor who delivered him," Claudia explained to Ric's shocked expression. "I just thought you'd want to meet your nephew."

Nephew? No, this couldn't be. RJ was his son, not his brother's. He had to be.

*

Ric awoke slowly, rubbing his eyes as his mind pulled itself from the dream. Half of him was trying to convince himself that RJ was his, while the other half was trying to crawl back into reality. Finally, after what felt like forever, all of Ric's mental being was in the same place: sitting confusedly in his bed.

That had been weird. Ric hadn't really given Claudia too much thought since he had heard of her death. But after that dream, his mind couldn't stop focusing on her, and what his subconscious had really been trying to say.

Ric had never really appreciated what he'd had with Claudia until it had been taken away from him when she had married Sonny. That must have been what the dream was saying. RJ was supposed to represent the love that they had shared, and how Sonny had just taken it away. And even though Ric didn't know much, he was positive that Sonny was responsible for Claudia's death.

It seemed like things would never change. Like any big brother, Sonny would always seem to make sure that Ric never had anything that he really wanted. Like Claudia.


	6. Jason

_Chapter Six: Jason_

Jason couldn't believe something like this was actually happening. He was sitting in his penthouse, completely calm. He didn't feel any negative emotions, like anger, fear, or hatred. He was unarmed, and wasn't even concerned about it. He felt like a different person, like he was seeing the world in a new light. All the violence and turmoil he had put himself through seemed to disappear. He was actually smiling, laughing even. He was finding the enjoyment in life that he hadn't experienced in a long time. He didn't expect anything like this from his current situation.

He was sitting on one end of his couch, and Claudia was sitting on the other. There was no hostility, suspicion, or animosity. Nothing more than a friendly distance between the two of them. Was this actually possible? Were they really having a pleasant conversation, sharing things that they didn't share with most people? And was he ignoring the fact that she had gotten Michael shot? Well, it hadn't really been her fault, had it? She hadn't really meant for it to happen.

"So, do you regret it?" Claudia was asking him, bringing Jason back to the conversation.

Jason shrugged. "Sometimes. I would love to settle down with a wife and kids, but I don't think its right for me. I've been in the business for so long that I don't know how to get out. Sonny's tried, and it hasn't worked. What if my enemies come after my family? It's happened before, and I don't want it to be something that I get used to."

Claudia nodded in an understanding way, which Jason was taken aback by. Claudia understood other people's feelings? She wasn't the uppity bitch he thought she was. Maybe he shouldn't have judged her from the start. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

"I get it," she said. "I mean, the little house with the white picket fence wouldn't work for me either, and I don't want it to. I tried with Sonny, but I guess it's just not right for me. I have to be in the business. There's nothing else for me."

Jason understood where she was coming from, and that surprised him, too. He didn't think he'd ever be able to understand Claudia. How could he? She had gotten Michael shot. No, wait, she hadn't. Ian had. It was her plan, yes, but it wasn't her fault.

Where were these feelings of forgiveness and ignorance coming from? Jason had spent so much time trying to prove that Claudia was guilty, and now he was trying to convince himself that she hadn't really had anything to do with it. Why? He didn't owe Claudia anything, especially a second chance. And if he was going to come to these feelings eventually, why now? Why hadn't his vengeance just been a phase? Why was it taking so long for him to see that not everything was as he thought it was?

Claudia smiled at his silence. "Who'd ever think we'd be on the same page about something?"

She had read his mind, to a certain extent. "I know, right? We're supposed to hate each other."

"And I think on some level we still do," said Claudia, smiling slightly. "But let's just put that aside for now. We're having a nice conversation. No reason to ruin it with negativity."

At that moment, Spinelli came bursting through the penthouse door, his hair all over the place and his sweatshirt rumpled. He looked completely frazzled, and he ran straight towards Jason, ignoring Claudia's presence.

"Stonecold," he said, breathless.

Jason stood up, worried. "What is it?"

"The Young Mr. Sir—" Spinelli couldn't even get the words out. It seemed, to Jason, to be from two things: breathlessness and fear.

"What?" Jason asked, getting even more nervous. "What happened to Michael?"

"It's happened again, Stonecold," said Spinelli, finally starting to calm down. "The Mr. Sir in training has been taken down once more. A bullet to the head, just like the previous occurrence."

Jason felt anger swell up inside of him. Not again. This could not be happening again. It felt like Michael had just woken up. And now he was shot again? How could this be?

He turned towards Claudia, who looked completely shocked, but he didn't buy it. That slut. She had set up another hit, and Michael had been the collateral damage again. Here she was, trying to act all innocent and be his friend. She had ruined Michael's life one too many times. Jason wasn't going to let her get away with it this time. Without even thinking, he walked over to the closet, pulled it open with force, yanked the shoebox down from the shelf, pulled out the gun, and shot it point blank at Claudia.

*

The sound of the gunshot in his head woke Jason from his slumber. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to wrap his head around his dream. Michael had been shot again, and he'd dealt with Claudia right away, like he should have in real life. Then that baby would never have been conceived, and Michael wouldn't have to bear the weight of Claudia's murder on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

But at the same time, maybe he shouldn't have been too quick to judge her. After all, she had grown up with Anthony Zacchara as a father. She was bound to turn out damaged in some way or other. By ordering that hit on Sonny, she was just doing what she had been taught, what had been the way of the business since before her time.

Jason was confused. He didn't know what to think anymore. He just wanted to forget Claudia's existence and move on with his life. He thought he had, but then that dream had brought it all back.

What was the dream supposed to mean? Was it supposed to show how he blamed her for everything, how she was his scapegoat until the very end? He didn't like to think of her as such. He liked to believe that she deserved everything she got. But did she? Did anyone? And who was he to be so self-righteous, when he could've made the same mistake as her?

Jason shook his head. No more thinking about Claudia. It only brought him backwards. It was time to refresh everything and look ahead.

As he drifted back off to sleep, Jason could swear he heard a soft voice say, "It wasn't my fault," a lullaby in disguise.


	7. Carly

_Chapter Seven: Carly_

"Josslyn, be careful, sweetie!" Carly called from the bench. It was a cool, October day. Josslyn's birthday, to be exact. She was seven, and Carly couldn't believe how fast time had flown. It seemed like yesterday that Carly had held her baby girl in her arms, and now she was almost too big to even sit on her mother's lap. Carly let a tear fall, a sign of her reminiscence and happiness that her daughter was growing up so beautifully.

"I'm fine, Mommy!" Josslyn called back. Like her mother, Josslyn was adventurous, fun-loving, and fearless. It had been her birthday wish to go to the park that day before Carly had the family over to the house for the party. A little plastic tiara that Josslyn had insisted on wearing all day sat atop her little blonde head as she went across the monkey bars for the millionth time that afternoon. The monkey bars had always been her favorite, and Carly smiled as she watched her daughter successfully make her way across them yet again.

"Look, Mommy, I did it again!" said Josslyn, jumping down on the woodchips, her hands in the air as she basked in her triumph.

"Good job, sweetheart!" said Carly, grinning from ear to ear. "Mommy's very proud of you."

"I'm gonna go on the swings!" said Josslyn, running towards them before Carly even gave her the okay.

"Josslyn, wait for me," she called, standing up with her purse. She was about to follow her daughter across the park when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Molly standing in front of her. She and Morgan had come with her and Josslyn to the park that day, and Morgan had been teaching his little cousin how to skateboard. Right now, though, it didn't look like the lessons were going too well. Molly was sporting a bloody scrape on her right arm.

"Carly, do you have any Band-Aids?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, sure, sweetie," said Carly, instantly rummaging in her purse. Being a mom, she always had Band-Aids with her. She would probably always carry them around, even after all her kids were in college. She finally found them and handed one to Molly. "Tell Morgan not to be too hard on you. I don't need your mother on my back if you get hurt."

Molly smiled in an understanding way. "I know. Don't worry, I'll be fine." She left quickly, eager to get back to her skateboarding. Carly turned around and started heading towards the swings. What she saw on her way stopped her in her tracks.

Josslyn hadn't made it to the swings. Instead, she was standing next to another little girl in her grade, one that Carly didn't like very much. Her name was Shauna , and Josslyn had had some problems with her. Carly didn't like the mother much either. They just weren't good people.

Carly was about to keep walking when she saw Shauna take her hands, shove Josslyn down on the hard woodchips, and run away. Josslyn immediately started bawling, and Carly quickened her pace to help her crying daughter. But someone else reached her first.

Claudia, seeming to come out of nowhere, knelt down beside Josslyn, trying to comfort her. Carly was just close enough to hear what was being said. She wanted to keep going, but some force around her wouldn't let her. It was like her feet were glued to where she stood. She tried to fight it, but it was futile. So she settled for just standing and listening.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Claudia asked. She looked out of place in the park. None of the mothers around were wearing six-inch black boots and leather jackets. "Was that little girl mean to you?"

Josslyn sniffled a couple times before answering, her voice coming out in a choked stutter. "Y-yes."

"What she did wasn't very nice," said Claudia in a soothing tone, one Carly had never heard come out of her mouth. "But don't worry. People like her don't go far in life. Eventually she won't have any friends. No one likes mean girls."

A shadow of a smile crept onto Josslyn's face. "That's what Mommy says. She says I shouldn't be mean, because no one likes mean girls."

"Well, your mommy is very smart," said Claudia, and Carly found herself beaming with pride. She didn't understand why, though. Compliments from Claudia didn't mean very much.

"My mommy is the smartest," said Josslyn, standing up. Claudia remained kneeling, and they were both at the same height. Carly's smile grew even wider. "She knows everything."

"Well it's very nice of you to talk about your mommy like that," said Claudia. "And you're very lucky to have such a smart mommy." She paused for a second before saying, "I love your crown."

Josslyn reached up and felt the little tiara with her hands. "It's my birthday crown. I'm the birthday girl."

"Really?" asked Claudia. "And how old are you?"

"Seven," said Josslyn, holding up that many fingers to emphasize the point.

"Wow," said Claudia. "That's big!" Josslyn giggled. "And guess what? I have a funny story for you."

Carly smiled. Josslyn loved funny stories. "What?" her daughter asked, hungry for information.

"It's my birthday, too," said Claudia, and Carly's smile immediately disappeared. How could she have forgotten? She remembered the night Josslyn was born, and how terrifying it had been. And she remembered Claudia delivering her baby girl and almost making off with her. But in all the chaos of the night, she had never really dwelled on the fact that that had been Claudia's birthday.

"Really?" asked Josslyn.

Claudia nodded. "Really. But I'm a lot older than seven."

"Where's your princess crown?" Josslyn inquired. "How will people know you're the birthday girl?"

Claudia shrugged. "I don't have a mommy to give me my birthday crown."

Without a second of consideration, Josslyn took the tiara off her head and held it out to Claudia. "Then take mine. Everyone already knows it's my birthday."

Claudia looked down at the little tiara, and Carly watched as a tear fell from her eye. "I don't want to take your crown," she said. "It's yours. And I don't need it. No one wants to celebrate my birthday."

Josslyn gasped in shock. "But you need to! You need someone to make you a cake and give you presents!"

"I don't need a cake and presents," said Claudia. "I just need my baby."

Carly gulped. Having lost two children before birth herself, she knew the pain that Claudia had gone through. She also knew that because Claudia didn't have other children, she would always mourn that baby.

"What happened to your baby?" asked Josslyn. "Is he here? Do we need to find him?" She started looking around. Claudia laughed, a hollow chuckle with no real joy in it.

"No, my baby's been gone for a long time," she said. "He's in heaven right now."

Josslyn just stared at her. "But even though he's in heaven, he probably still wants you to have a birthday. He won't mind if you celebrate without him. You can always pray to him later." She held out the tiara again. "Please take my princess crown. You need a birthday present, especially because you don't have your baby. You can't have a birthday without a present."

Claudia looked down at it again, and Carly watched as she reluctantly took it. "Thank you."

"You have to wear it," insisted Josslyn. "You need everyone to know it's your birthday."

Claudia stared at it for another second, then slowly placed it on top of her head. Even though it was a plastic crown made for small children, Carly didn't think Claudia looked ridiculous in it.

"Now we have to sing!" said Josslyn, and before Claudia could stop her, she started belting, "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Claudia! Happy birthday to you!"

*

Josslyn's little angelic voice rung in Carly's ears, even when she was completely awake. Out of maternal instinct, Carly quickly jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to Josslyn's room. Without turning on the light, she crept inside and stood by the crib, watching her baby daughter sleep peacefully.

Carly had been trying to put a mental block on that night for months, but that dream and just sent it all rushing back. Claudia taking her hostage. Going into labor. Crashing the car. Crawling to the cabin. Claudia helping her give birth to Josslyn and trying to take her. Michael coming in and killing Claudia. It had been so traumatic, and Carly was thankful every day that Josslyn would never remember that awful night.

Even as she stared at her daughter, trying to push away the bad memories, one thought wouldn't rest.

Josslyn's life had been Claudia's death, but they would still always be bonded by the power of a birthday.


	8. Kristina

_Chapter Eight: Kristina_

Kristina hadn't been to the park in quite some time. In fact, she wasn't quite sure why she was even here. She had homework to do, tests to study for, friends to hang out with—why on Earth was she here, at the park, when she had so many more productive things to do?

She did have to admit, though—it was a nice day. It felt like the sun hadn't shone in ages, but now it was, the rays trickling down to Earth and landing lightly on her shoulders. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the air was crisp with the smell of spring. Maybe she'd stay awhile. She was always in such a rush to be doing something. Maybe she should slow down for once.

"Higher, Mommy! Higher!" Kristina turned around and found herself facing the swings. Only one of them was being used. A little boy, no older than four or five, sat on it, his hands gripping the chains for dear life as he sailed towards the sky, and then dropped back down to Earth, his toothy grin never leaving his face. His legs weren't swinging, and Kristina wondered how he was getting so much momentum. But her confusion didn't last long when she saw who was pushing him.

At first, Kristina couldn't believe it was Claudia. She didn't look anything like the woman that used to be Kristina's stepmother. Instead of her usual black and red, she was wearing a light blue top, with dark blue jeans and white sandals. Kristina had never seen her wear so much color. She definitely didn't look like herself. In fact, she almost looked like…a mom.

"Higher?" Claudia asked the little boy, smiling just as big as he was. "If I send you any higher, you'll be in outer space." The boy came pitching back down to Earth, and Claudia shoved him again with the force of a mother who wanted her child to have fun.

"More, Mommy! Higher, higher!" he screamed, giggling with delight. Claudia continued pushing him until her eyes landed on Kristina. As the swing came back down, she grabbed the chains with her hands, stopping its motion.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" the little boy asked, looking up at Claudia.

Claudia looked down at him, smiled, then knelt down on the woodchips, staring him right in the eye. "Mommy's gonna be right back, okay? Just wait right here for me."

"Okay," said the boy, swinging his legs back and forth, trying to give himself the same momentum that his mother had.

Claudia walked over to Kristina, who stood rooted to the spot, unsure of the pending conversation. "Hey," said Claudia casually. "Could you watch your little brother for a minute? I'll be right back."

Kristina nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay, thanks," said Claudia. She turned around to give her son her parting words. "Who loves you?" she called across the playground.

"You do!" the boy shouted back.

"And how much?" Claudia asked, enjoying this game that she seemed to play with him a lot.

The boy opened his arms wide, stretching them as far as they could go. "This much!"

Claudia chuckled. "That's right. I'll be right back, baby. Listen to your sister." And with that, she walked away, leaving Kristina to tend to her little brother alone.

Kristina walked over to the swings, where the boy was still swinging his legs back and forth. "Hey," she said. "Do you want me to push you?"

The little boy's grin grew wide. "Can you push as high as Mommy?"

Kristina smiled. "Of course." She went behind the swing and placed her hands on her brother's back. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. "Yep!"

Kristina smiled. "Okay, then. Here we go!" She gave him a shove and he moved forward slightly, coming back just as quickly. She pushed him again, and he went a little bit higher. It took a few minutes, but eventually he was at the height he had been at when Claudia was pushing him. It was actually quite fun, shoving him as hard as she could, watching him fly up to the sky, and then preparing for him to come back down to Earth so that she could send him up again. Kristina actually found herself laughing with enjoyment, until the swing came back without him.

At first, Kristina didn't get it. He had been holding on as tight as possible. She couldn't have pushed him off. She wasn't shoving him that hard. And he wasn't on the ground, where he would be if he had lost his grip. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen.

Okay, don't panic, Kristina tried to convince herself. He couldn't have gone far. He couldn't have gone anywhere at all, for that matter. But Kristina didn't have much time to look for him. Claudia was coming back.

Kristina tried to look as innocent as possible as her stepmother walked over to the swings, looking around for her son. "Where'd he go?"

What should she say? That she was pushing him on the swings and he just disappeared? "Um, well…"

"I leave you with him for two seconds, and he's gone?" Oh, no. She was getting mad, and Kristina knew how bad that could get.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't you know what I would do if I lost him?" Claudia asked. "He's the only thing I have right now. I'd go crazy without him."

"Claudia, I didn't—"

"I can't live without him!" Claudia practically screamed, tears running down her face. "And you just go and lose him without even caring! You're not even gonna get punished for this! No one cares about my son except me! You just get off all easy because everyone loves you and how perfect you are! But nobody cares about me and my son! We don't mean anything to anybody!"

*

When Kristina woke up, she was surprised to feel that tears had formed in her eyes during the nightmare. She stretched, and realized that she had fallen asleep on the couch, two textbooks open on the coffee table. She rubbed her eyes and looked at her watch. It wasn't late. She must have dozed off while studying.

Kristina tried to shake the dream from her memory as her mother came through the door, looking very disheveled after a long day at work. "Hey," she said, seeing Kristina. "How was your day?"

"Okay," Kristina mumbled, still drowsy. She tried to suppress it, but a yawn still made its way to the surface.

Alexis looked at her with her head cocked to the side. "Tired?"

Kristina nodded. "Yeah. I actually just woke up. I guess I fell asleep while I was studying."

"Well, that's not good," said Alexis. "You need to wake up. Don't you have two tests tomorrow?"

"Three," Kristina corrected. "But who's counting?"

Alexis smiled. "Well, just keep studying." She started walking away, heading towards the stairs. "Now, where did Molly disappear to?"

Kristina felt her stomach drop at the word "disappear." Isn't that what had happened to Claudia's baby after she had forced her off the road? He had disappeared, never to be seen, held, or loved by anyone except Claudia. And it was all her fault. She shouldn't have driven while she was upset. She shouldn't have been texting either. And she most certainly shouldn't have left Claudia and her baby to die on the side of the road. Things might've turned out differently if she'd just acted smarter. Claudia might not have gone crazy at her birthday party, taking Carly hostage. That baby seemed to be the only thing attaching her to sanity, and when it was gone, she wasn't even hanging by a thread.

The night that Kristina had caused the accident was the real night of Claudia's death.


	9. Anthony

_Chapter Nine: Anthony_

It felt good not to be in prison anymore. Those four cement walls of his cell had slowly been driving Anthony crazier than he already was. He had longed for the air away from jail, the air that wasn't contaminated with smog and cigarette smoke. He wanted to have a meal where each component tasted different from the rest, instead of every item on his plate tasting like rubber. He wanted peace away from his wannabe inmates who tried to act all tough, when really he, despite his age, was the most dangerous of them all. But what he yearned for most was his home, and the memories created in it. His home had been where he'd conducted his business, where deals had been made that had created his vast fortune. It was where he had built his life with Maria, where they had raised their beautiful son to one day take over the Zacchara empire. He wanted to smell the roses his wife and son had planted so many years ago. But the best part about going home? His bitch of a daughter was dead, and wouldn't be screaming in his ear when he walked through the door.

Anthony walked slowly down the halls of the estate's first floor, savoring every second he had inside, every step he took. This house was built on his successes and dreams. It represented everything he had worked for in his life, and everything he still had yet to achieve. Yes, he was an old man, but he wasn't dead yet. There was still so much he had wanted to do before it was Johnny's turn to continue his work.

The house was completely silent, with only the echoes of the past to keep him company. Anthony tried to shut out all the bad memories that this house had held: countless fights with Dominica, Trevor and Claudia's tryst, his shooting of Maria. There were many moments like these that also defined this house, but Anthony was too far into his prime to want to dwell on them. Who knew how many years he had left before his time? He couldn't concern himself with negative thoughts. He could only think of progress and the future, and what he could still do before he couldn't do anything.

Being alone with his thoughts, Anthony was quite surprised when he thought he heard the sounds of someone else in the house. They were faint, but definitely there. He may have been aging, but his hearing was as impeccable as ever. And he may be crazy, but this was no figment of his imagination. There was someone else in his sanctuary, and he had to find out who it was, before they disrupted his peace any longer.

The noise seemed to be coming from the second floor, so Anthony headed towards the stairs, descending each one slowly, keeping his ears perked for more clues. The noise was familiar, like something he'd heard a thousand times. But it wasn't just the normal sounds of a house as old as this. No, these were the sounds of a person. But who? And what were they doing that so triggered his memory?

Anthony reached the second floor. The hall was completely dark, save for a thin and faint strip of flashing light that shone from the crack of one of the many closed doors. Anthony headed towards this door, and the sounds grew louder. It wasn't until he had his hand on the doorknob that he remembered. This was Claudia's room.

Anthony felt a faint pang of fear, but brushed it away instantly. Claudia was dead. Why someone would be in her room, he had no idea, but he had no reason to be afraid. After all, he hadn't feared Claudia when she was alive. She was all talk. She'd never had the guts to kill him.

He opened the door slowly and silently, and what he saw was not what he had expected. The whole room was dark, except for the glow from a television screen, whose sound was playing at a volume slightly higher than normal. On the floor of the room sat a little girl, around the age of seven, clutching a red blanket to her chest as she stared at the screen. The girl had long, dark hair and deep, brown eyes, and a closer look revealed that it was Claudia, over twenty years younger than when Anthony had last seen her.

Anthony couldn't believe this. What was little Claudia doing here? It was impossible. Claudia, if she had been alive, would be in her thirties. And she wasn't alive. Someone had finally done the job to her that she had deserved. What was her younger self doing here, of all places?

It was because he was crazy. Anthony couldn't deny it. He had seen visions of Maria long after she had passed, and now the same thing was happening to him with his daughter. But why was she so young? Why wasn't he seeing her at the age she had been when she died?

That answer took awhile, but it finally came to him. Because Claudia was around seven when Anthony had last loved her.

Anthony took another step into the room and looked at the screen, finally realizing why the sounds were so familiar. Dominica had been an avid fan of horror films, and had passed that trait along to Claudia, even when she was a young child. After her mother had left, Claudia had watched as many scary movies as possible, trying to hold onto Dominica by watching what they had bonded over. Every Halloween, until she was sixteen, _A Nightmare on Elm Street _was sure to be playing on at least one channel, and Claudia was sure to be watching.

That was what was on the screen now, and even though Anthony had never sat down and watched this movie with his daughter, he felt like he could recite it word for word after listening to it every year. Little Claudia seemed to be in a deep trance as she watched, her fingers wrapped tightly around the blanket as teenagers were chased down alleys by a mysterious man with sharp-clawed fingers.

Anthony turned to his small daughter. Should he say something? Should he just leave her to watch the movie in peace? He stood there for awhile, debating his options, when the little girl turned her head towards her father and said, "It's just a movie, right Daddy?"

Anthony was so taken aback by her voice. He hadn't heard that small, almost angelic sound come out of her for so long, yet its melody tore at his heartstrings as he remembered those times when he had enjoyed his daughter's company. "What?" he asked, still in shock.

"Mommy says it's just a movie, but I want to ask you," said Claudia. "If people die in their dreams, do they die in real life?"

Answer, Anthony told himself. "No, of course not. It's just a movie."

"But I've died in my dreams," said Claudia. "And I died in real life."

"Well, everyone dies," said Anthony, surprised at the compassion in his voice. "You didn't die in real life how you did in your dreams, did you?"

Claudia shook her head. "No. In my dreams, you killed me."

Again, Anthony was speechless. He had treated Claudia like crap. He had beaten her. He had let Trevor make sexual passes at her until she felt like she had to give her body to him to make it stop. He had sent her away for something that, in all honesty, hadn't been her fault. He had kidnapped her. He had tried to kill her on many occasions. But never had Anthony ever imagined actually ending the life that he had helped create. He would threaten her, yes, and even try to kill her. But he never thought he could actually look in his daughter's eyes as life left them. That was why he had tied Claudia to the bomb, so he wouldn't have actually had to watch. He was glad that, when her life had ended, he hadn't been there to see it. He may have hated her, but, at the end of the day, she was still his daughter.

"You still have the chance," said a voice, one that brought Anthony back to the present. He turned around to see an older Claudia, the one he had last seen before her death. There was vengeance in her eyes and a knife in her hand.

"Claudia," said Anthony, his voice weak. He had never feared his daughter, but now he did. He had never seen that much murder burn her eyes before.

"Here," she said, holding out the knife to him. "You've killed me in my dreams. Now do it in yours."

Anthony looked down at the knife, back up at Claudia, and then glanced behind him at the younger Claudia, who was now standing up, the red blanket forgotten on the floor. Anthony looked deeply into her eyes, and couldn't help it as a tear fell from one of his.

"You can do it, Daddy," said both Claudia's at the same time. "I'm already dead anyway."

When Anthony's eyes opened, he was no longer in his house with two of his daughter. He was back in his prison cell, staring at the blank cement wall and pondering his dream.

Seeing Claudia so young had changed him, taken him back twenty years, to when he hadn't had this heart of ice. He used to be able to love her, and see her as something more than a slut and a nuisance. And even when she had grown up, there was still that glimmer of a little girl behind her brown eyes, a little girl who wasn't afraid of monsters in movies, but who was terrified of the real world.

In his dream, the Claudia's had asked for death. In real life, he had given them exactly that.


	10. Johnny

_Chapter Ten: Johnny_

This was it, thought Johnny, staring at himself in his full-length mirror. There was no going back. He had made his commitments and promises. He wouldn't ignore his words. He would go through with this, because it would make him happy. It was the one thing in his life right now that would make him happy, and he wasn't going to screw it up. Today, he was marrying Olivia.

Johnny looked himself up and down in the mirror, checking for the millionth time to make sure that nothing was out of place. His pants were creased perfectly. His jacket was straight and crisp. His blood red tie stood out vibrantly against his white shirt. His shoes were shined to perfection. His hair was gelled into the exact position he wanted it. His face was clean-shaven and slightly glossy with nervous perspiration. He tried not to let his sweaty palms get the best of him as he began his pacing.

He had no second thoughts. Proposing to Olivia had been the smartest decision he'd ever made, which wasn't really saying much. Nevertheless, he had no intentions of leaving her at the altar. In fact, he wasn't nervous at all about today. It was just a ceremony and reception. He and Olivia would pledge their love for each other in front of their friends and family, and later, they'd have their first dance together as husband and wife. No, today was of no concern to him. It was the rest of his life that he was scared about.

Would he make Olivia happy? Would she value and cherish him as a husband, no matter what obstacles they were bound to face? Would her faith in him remain unwavering, along with her loyalty? Could he keep their relationship spontaneous and outrageous, like it had been since the night they'd met? Could they love each other through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, and in everything else they were going to vow today?

It would be a somewhat lonely moment for Johnny as he stood at the head of the aisle, waiting for his bride to meet him. He had plenty of friends here to support him, but not one blood relative. Uncle Rudy hadn't been able to make it because of a last-minute mob emergency. His father was still in prison. And Claudia—well, he didn't really want to think about that.

Johnny stopped his pacing and looked at the door of the room, the door that led out to the church's entrance hall. Any minute now, his best man, Spinelli, would open that door and tell him that it was time, time to get married and be someone's husband, time to pledge your entire life to just one person.

His thoughts were deafening, and he couldn't make them stop. His ears rang, his palms sweated, his head ached. He was so preoccupied with the coming years of his life that he almost didn't notice Claudia suddenly appear in a chair that had been vacant a second ago.

Johnny practically jumped out of his skin. His nerves must really be getting to him. Claudia was dead. She couldn't possibly be sitting here before him, that mischievous smirk of hers firmly planted on her face. But it was her. It was too real not to be her. She was all dressed up, like she had some kind of event to go to. She was wearing a silver cocktail dress with matching heels, her long brown hair flowing from the top of her head to rest on her shoulders. Her legs were crossed and she didn't seem at all surprised to be back from the dead.

"Claudia," said Johnny, choking the word out as he stared at his deceased sister.

Claudia just smiled. "Hey, John."

Johnny couldn't get the words out. "I…but you…your birthday…I—I saw…"

"You'd think I'd let a little something like death stop me from seeing my baby brother get married?" Claudia asked skeptically, raising a mocking eyebrow. "No way in hell, and I know all the ways down there."

Johnny would have smiled at her joke, if he was in his right state of mind. "But—how?"

"It doesn't matter," said Claudia, standing up and taking a couple steps toward him. Johnny took a step back, not quite sure what to think. "Aren't you happy I'm here? I know I am."

Johnny didn't say anything, just stood there, preparing to take another step back if Claudia came any closer.

Claudia ignored his silence, staring wistfully about the room as she continued. "I always used to wonder what kind of girl you'd end up marrying. Of course, in my mind, no one was good enough for you. But you seem to've found someone who really makes you happy."

Johnny got over his shock just enough to point out his sister's obliviousness. "I'm marrying Olivia."

Claudia just looked at him. "I know."

Now he was really confused. "You hate Olivia."

Again, Claudia just stared at him and said, "I know."

"Then why aren't you pissed as hell?" he asked with a small smile. "Why aren't you throwing things, or yelling at me, or going after Olivia with a butcher knife?" Claudia laughed, a chuckle that went right to Johnny's heart. When she had been alive, Claudia hadn't laughed much, and it was a rarity to hear such a sound come out of her. Now that she was gone (or at least had been, last time Johnny checked; now, he wasn't so sure), there seemed to be a certain silence that followed Johnny everywhere, a silence that should have been filled by Claudia's scarce laughter. With that void no longer empty, Johnny felt slightly uplifted. He had missed his sister, and he hadn't realized how much until now.

"You know I can't stand Olivia," said Claudia, folding her arms. "She's a cougar, she doesn't know when to stop talking, she acts like Sonny is her personal property—"

"No wonder you're so happy for me," said Johnny cheekily, taking a step towards his sister, now not so much afraid.

Claudia just smirked as she said, "But, for whatever God forsaken reason, you love her, and want to spend the rest of your life with her. She makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy."

"Why couldn't you say this when you were still alive?" asked Johnny. "I had kind of wanted to hear you say it before you went."

Claudia shrugged. "I had too much pride to admit I was wrong. Now, it doesn't really matter what I think, does it?" Johnny just smiled again. "Come here. Hug your sister." Claudia stretched out her arms and pulled her brother into a tight embrace. Johnny reciprocated it with equal force, cherishing the moment, burning it into his memory so that he would never forget it.

"I love you, Johnny," said Claudia, her voice choked. "Don't ever forget that, okay? Just promise me won't you forget."

"I won't," said Johnny, squeezing her tight. "I love you, too. I've missed you so much."

Claudia sniffled and pulled away, brushing a tear from her cheek. Johnny just smiled down at her, saying, "You'll stay for the wedding?"

She nodded, grabbing his right hand in her left. The door to the room opened, Spinelli's face peeking in. He didn't even acknowledge Claudia's presence as he said, "The congregation awaits your nuptials."

Johnny found it odd that Spinelli hadn't noticed Claudia, but then shook it out of his mind. She was a figment of his imagination, most likely, or a mere phantasm that only he could see, at best. Either way, she was with him, and had come back from wherever to watch him get married, even though she'd much rather kill his bride-to-be than welcome her into the family. Johnny squeezed his sister's hand tight as they walked towards the door, into the entrance hall of the church. The only people there were Spinelli, Kate, who was Olivia's maid of honor, and the priest, who looked towards Johnny when he saw him come out.

"Are you ready, Mr. Zacchara?" he asked, walking towards him.

"Yes," said Johnny, completely confident. He turned to his left to get an encouraging smile from Claudia, but she was gone.

How had she left? He hadn't even noticed the weight of her hand in his disappear. She couldn't have gone far. She said she'd stay for the wedding.

"Is everything okay, Mr. Zacchara?" asked the priest, looking at Johnny with concern as the groom searched the entrance hall for any sign of his sister. Not finding her anywhere, he just turned back to the priest and said, "I wanted my sister to be here for this."

The priest nodded in an understanding way. "Such is the case for many who get married after an immediate family member has since passed. But you must remember, Mr. Zacchara: she is with God now, and He will make sure she is with you in spirit."

Johnny smiled. Claudia was with him in spirit. He would carry her with him, always.

Johnny woke up from his dream with an unexpected smile on his face. He hadn't seen Claudia for so long, and even seeing her in his dream was enough to satisfy him. And that hadn't been any ordinary dream. No, he knew that Claudia had really been inside his head.

After his mother's death, Johnny had always wished that she would visit him in his sleep, to assure him that she was okay. Being only eight and not fully understanding the situation, Johnny had been jealous of his father, who Maria had seemed to visit frequently, and not just in his subconscious. As he grew older, he had learned that those visions were a product of his father's insanity. But this was no crazy hallucination. That had been Claudia. He had felt it in her words, her laugh, the natural grasp with which she had held his hand. Even though she had been there to support him, she had still been holding onto him like a child held onto their parent before they crossed the street. He was her rock, and she had made sure that he'd known it.

Johnny rolled over in his bed to find himself staring Olivia right in the face. He thought she was still asleep, until her eyes slowly flickered and opened, staring straight into his. Instead of the smile that he usually woke up to, her face formed a confused frown.

"What are you grinning about?" she asked.

Johnny just continued smiling. "Nothing, really. Just a dream I had." A dream that had finally given him peace.


	11. Sonny

_Chapter Eleven: Sonny_

Sonny walked into the living room, throwing his keys down on his desk. The house was so quiet. He hated it. He knew he hated a lot of things, but silence was the worst. Especially this kind. It was deafening. It represented everything about his life. The silence of the people he'd killed. Michael's silence for the whole year he was in a coma. The silence of not having someone besides guards to greet him when he came home.

But he had done this to himself. Every relationship he had ever been in ended by his own fault. Whether it was death, fear, or he just didn't want to deal with them, it always ended by his hand. But that was karma, wasn't it? He had done so many awful things in his life. He couldn't even remember all of them. But this was what he deserved. For the silence of others, he got silence for himself.

Sonny started to make his way up the stairs. It had been a long night, and he needed his sleep. He trudged up each step, his feet heavy and dragging. When he reached the top, he was about to go into his room, but something stopped him.

The silence had been broken.

The door at the end of the dark hall was open, revealing the only light on in the entire second floor. Sonny was confused. The only room he was ever in on this floor was his own. The other rooms were merely there for decoration, for lack of a better word. And the one at the end of the hall—well, he never went in there. His mind couldn't take the pain that the silence of that room brought.

Despite his confusion, Sonny was curious. He didn't necessarily want to visit the room that brought back so many bad memories, but he felt like he had to. There was something about that light that was enticing, that drew him towards it, against his own will. He put one steady foot in front of the other as he made his way down the hall, preparing himself for what was waiting for him.

He stopped just before he reached the room, took a deep breath, and stepped inside, a mixture of emotions hitting him at once as he saw what lay in store for him.

Sonny had to shake his head and blink to make sure he was seeing everything clearly. It was all so bizarre and impossible. The room, instead of being half-painted and sparsely decorated, like the last time he had been inside, was now fully functioning. The light blue walls were almost calming, just like they had intended. The crib, the toy chest, the hanging mobile, the curtains—everything was in its place. Especially one thing in particular: the rocking chair, with two unexpected people sitting in it.

Sonny strained his memory hard, but he didn't think he could ever remember Claudia wearing white, not even on their wedding day. But here she was, sitting in the rocking chair, wearing a beautiful, summery dress, the color looking so out of place and yet so perfect on her at the same time. Her feet were bare, and she looked extremely comfortable, her dark hair settling peacefully around her shoulders. In her arms, she held a bundle of blue blankets, the small head of a child peeking out from inside.

"Do you know how much your mommy loves you?" Claudia was cooing to the baby, not even noticing Sonny's presence as she rocked back and forth in the chair. "She loves you so much. She almost lost you, but you were a little fighter. You lived for Mommy. And I am so proud of you."

Sonny almost felt tears coming to his eyes. It was his son, the son that had never had a chance. And his wife, the wife that hadn't had a chance either.

"You're going to do great things," Claudia was saying in a comforting whisper. "I can feel it. You're gonna be so smart. And you're gonna be great at sports. And you're gonna play the piano better than your uncle Johnny." She smiled at her little joke. "Just promise me something, 'kay?" The baby gurgled in response. Claudia's smile grew brighter. "Don't turn out like Daddy."

Sonny felt his heart sink to the floor. Even though that child had been Claudia's, it had also been his. And even though he didn't love Claudia, he would have loved that son just as much as his other children. He would have raised him the best he could, and would have made sure he'd had every opportunity he'd ever dreamed of. With these thoughts in mind, Sonny couldn't help but be stung by Claudia's words. She had wanted him to be a part of their baby's life. She had wanted them to raise him together. So why, now, was she telling this little child that she didn't want him to be like Sonny?

"I used to love your Daddy," said Claudia to the baby. "And I used to think he loved me. But he didn't. He called me bad names, names I hope you never call any woman you ever meet. Do you understand? You will never call any girl a slut, bitch, whore, skank, or anything else to make her feel like she's nothing. Words are powerful, and take it from me: they really hurt." Sonny swallowed a guilty lump in his throat while Claudia continued. "Your daddy killed me, did you know that? I mean, not directly. But falling for him is what killed me. My life started ending the second I laid eyes on him. And he killed you, too." Oh, no, thought Sonny. He knew where this was going. "Well, not exactly. But he knows who killed you. And he didn't do a damn thing about it."

Sonny couldn't take this any more. He decided to make his presence known, clearing his throat and choking out, "Claudia."

Claudia's head snapped up at the sound of her name. She saw Sonny, smiled mockingly, and clutched the baby closer to her. "I'm teaching our son life lessons, hoping he doesn't turn out like you."

"Claudia," Sonny said again, taking a step into the room. He had to do it. It was the only option. "I'm sorry."

Claudia considered his apology for a good second, then stood up slowly, shifting the baby's weight in her arms. "You're not sorry, at least not for what you did to me. You're sorry Michael has to bear my murder on his shoulders for the rest of his life. You're sorry you weren't there for Kristina, and that maybe if you had been, she wouldn't have run me off the road. And you might even be sorry for the life God stuck me in. But don't lie to me and say you're sorry for me, and what you put me through, and what everyone else around you put me through. It's just your guilt talking, not your heart."

Sonny couldn't deny the truth of her words. "But I am guilty."

"Of course you are," said Claudia. "I'd be guilty if I were you. I was guilty. For the whole last year and a half of my life, I was guilty. The guilt ate at me like a monster. But no one seemed to care about my guilt, so why should I care about yours?"

"Claudia, please, just listen—" Sonny started, but Claudia wouldn't let him finish.

"No," she said simply. "I've listened to you for too long. You didn't let me have any dignity in my life. Please, let me have it in death."

Sonny couldn't say anything more. He couldn't. He had destroyed Claudia. He at least owed her these words.

Claudia kept powering through, like she had needed to say these things for a long time. "I loved you, Sonny. I know I never said it, but I did. I fell for you so hard." Sonny watched as a tear fell from her eye. "And we were gonna have a baby, and be a family, and be happy. But you wouldn't let that happen. After we lost this baby, you didn't want to try for another. I died childless, while another kid shows up on your doorstep every five seconds. How is that fair? Why do you get so many children, and I didn't even get one?"

She was really bawling now, and Sonny didn't know what to do except listen. "I know you hate my guts and what I did to Michael and how I lied about it…but what makes you the better person? Why do you deserve to live, while I had to die so violently? You have killed so many people, and done so many cruel things, without even looking back! I have never killed anyone, not one person, ever! So everyone calls me the bitch and the slut and the whore, and you're some kind of hero? No one mourns my death, but I swear on Johnny's life that everyone will come to your funeral when you finally get what you deserve! But why? What did I do that was worse than anything you've ever done?"

Sonny was absolutely speechless. She was speaking the truth. He couldn't deny her words. He had done so many awful things, and still hadn't gotten his comeuppance. But Claudia made one mistake, and all of a sudden she's the witch that needs to burn.

Claudia watched as he took her words into account, and slowly made her way to the door. She stopped right next to Sonny, clutching their child in her arms as she gave her final words. "In case you're wondering, I actually got into heaven. Michael didn't kill me right away. I laid there for a little while, and you know what I did? I asked God to forgive all my sins. I did not want to burn in hell for the rest of eternity. And believe it or not, He let me into His sacred kingdom. And now I'm spending the rest of time with our baby. Excuse me, my baby," she corrected.

Sonny just looked at her. He didn't have any more words. Claudia took in his silence, and did something unexpected. She planted a quick and simple kiss on Sonny's lips.

That was the worst nightmare he had ever had, and he'd had some gruesome ones. But that was the first one he'd ever had where someone he'd wronged had come back to him to tell him how things really were. He deserved every second of that dream. Leave it to Claudia, even from the grave, to put him in his place.

But why had she kissed him? She had gone on that long rant about what an awful person he was, so why extend such a courtesy to him afterwards?

It took him a second, but he finally figured it out.

She wanted to remind him of what he had lost, and what he could have saved.


	12. Michael

_Chapter Twelve: Michael_

The warehouse was completely dark, except for one light that shone from the ceiling, creating a small circle in the center of the floor. There usually wasn't a light on when he came, so he found such an occurrence quite suspicious. In the pool of light was a simple wooden chair, just waiting for someone to sit in it.

Michael came to this particular warehouse quite often. It was the same warehouse where he had been shot, where a year of his life had begun to erase itself. He couldn't remember the night in perfect detail, but he had somewhat of an outline imprinted in his memory, and that was really all that mattered. Michael liked to come here to think. Sonny had shut down this warehouse after the shooting, so no one would bother him. At least he didn't think anyone would. But the light and chair didn't exactly enforce that fact.

Michael looked closely at the chair. Something in the back of his brain told him to sit in it, so he did, taking slow steps over to the center of the warehouse, letting the light wash over his body as he stepped under it. He finally reached the small chair and sat down, almost prepared for lightening to strike him, or for that terrifying bullet to ricochet again.

But nothing out of the ordinary happened. The warehouse remained in its usual eerie quiet, the bustling sounds of busy Port Charles life far away. Michael enjoyed the silence, even though it was similar to the silence that he had experienced in that long coma. So many people talked at him all day, telling him what to do, how to feel, and how to move on. When he came here, no one bothered him. He could just sit and think, and let other people's thoughts and opinions just float away.

Michael sat in the content silence for quite some time, staring into space as he let his mind wander. In fact, the warehouse was so quiet that it was quite a shock when a figure emerged from the darkness and revealed itself to Michael in the pool of light.

The figure almost gave Michael a heart attack. It was Claudia, but she didn't look at all like he'd last seen her. She was no longer wearing the silver dress and heels, her hair unaffected by any sweat, rain, or blood. The look of vengeance and fear was gone from her dark eyes. If anything, she almost looked at peace. She was quite a vision to behold, a long and flowing white dress stretching down to her ankles, her feet covered in strappy white flats. Her hair was combed and fell beautifully around her shoulders, and her dark eyes looked kind. Tired, but kind.

Michael wanted to stand up and run, but something kept him in that chair. He wanted to close his eyes and look away, but his lids remained wide open, not even blinking for a second. He didn't want to see the woman he had killed. He had had so many nightmares about that event in his life, and he couldn't stand that they were coming back, but this time in a different fashion. He wanted to wake up, but he was frozen in his dream, unable to bring himself back to what had to be reality.

"Hi, Michael," said Claudia, the edge that usually existed in her voice now a mere memory.

Michael didn't know what to say. In his usual dreams, it was just a reoccurrence of him hitting his stepmother over the head with an axe. She never talked to him, especially not in such an even and calm tone. Fear, confusion, and shock kept his mouth locked tight, but Claudia didn't let it deter her from her mission.

"I know how surprising it is to see me, especially like this," said Claudia, standing right at the edge of the circle of light, her face slightly shadowed by the darkness surrounding them. "But I've already visited everyone else. I couldn't be a coward and forget about you."

Visited everyone else? What was she talking about? She was crazy, that was for sure. But Michael still didn't say anything. He just sat and stared.

"I need you to listen to me, okay?" said Claudia, almost pleading. "I need you to hear me out, so that I can finally give myself some peace."

Michael remained silent. Claudia seemed to take that as a sign of acknowledgement, and proceeded with her speech. "I know what people have told you about me. I mean, about what I did to you. They said I wasn't guilty about it, that I didn't care that you had gotten in the way. They said I just went on with my life while yours stopped. And I need you to know that none of that is true. None of it.

"I don't love many people in this world, but I love my brother. Johnny is everything to me. It was he and I against the world when we were kids. And even when I came back from Italy, I still felt like I had to protect him. I mean, he was my baby brother. How could I not? He needed me. There were so many people in his life that were trying to control him. My father wanted him to run the business. Trevor wanted to shut him out of it. And Sonny wanted him dead." Michael flinched at the sound of his father's name, but still didn't reply to what Claudia was saying.

"After you accidentally shot Kate Howard, and ran away, Sonny thought that Johnny and I had taken you, which you know wasn't true. So, to get me to give you back, he took Johnny. He threw my baby brother into a padded cell on top of a cold-as-crap mountain, took his shirt and shoes so he would freeze to death, beat him, and didn't give him anything to eat. He tortured him, Michael. Johnny could have died. And Johnny doesn't deserve to die. He hasn't done a wrong thing in his life.

"I know you have a little brother, Morgan." Again, Michael flinched as Claudia brought up another person close to him. "And I know you, Michael. You are your father's son. You'd do anything to save Morgan. You'd give your own life, just like I would for Johnny. And you'd probably take one for him, too.

"Don't you see, Michael? I'd think you, out of anyone in the entire world, would understand me. You grew up with a mobster father, like I did. You've been surrounded by violence your entire life. You know that when you grow up, it won't stop. You know that you'll probably end up in a life of crime. And you learned the rules. When someone hurts you, you hurt back. There's no other option. It's a constant war, and there are casualties. Johnny was one, and, unfortunately and unintentionally, you were another.

"And you have a little brother, and you know you'd do anything for him, even kill. But I was too much of a coward to do the job myself. So I hired Jerry Jacks to do it, but he backed out, too. So he got Ian Devlin, and I trusted Jerry, and I thought Ian would get the job done right. But he didn't and I am so sorry for that. I didn't know you would be with your dad at that night. And I definitely didn't think that Ian would shoot with you there. But he did, and I am so sorry, Michael. I didn't ever once dream of hurting you. This was between me and Sonny. You never even entered the equation.

"I wanted to kill Ian, I swear I did. I knew it was bad enough, growing up the way you did, and I didn't think anyone in your situation ever deserved to end up the way you did. I was you, Michael. And if I didn't deserve it, neither did you.

"And please don't think I spent the next year completely ignoring everything, because I swear I felt guilty about what had happened every single day. I visited you in the institution every week. And every day I wished I could have changed what happened."

Claudia took a deep breath, pausing for the first time throughout her whole rant. But she wasn't finished. "That night of my birthday…I cracked, Michael. Besides Johnny, the only other person I've truly loved with all my heart was my baby. And when Sonny said that he was glad our baby had died, I couldn't take it. I know I shouldn't have taken Carly, and I knew that she and Josslyn could have died, but I was out of my mind. You know my father was mentally ill. Of course I wasn't getting a free pass. I know that's not an excuse, but it's the truth. I was sick, sick enough to want to take Josslyn away from Carly. I don't know why I wanted to do that. My baby had been taken from me, and I don't know why I'd want to do that to someone else. But I did, and thank God you stopped me."

Michael looked up at her, staring deeply into her eyes. Every single word out of her mouth was the truth. He could just feel it. Claudia was dead. What did she have to gain from lying anymore?

"I don't hate you for killing me, Michael. If anything, it was a blessing. I would have suffered for the rest of my life. I was so sick, and I doubt whatever mental disorder I had was easily curable. I would have lived the rest of my life being ridiculed and tortured by real people and figments of my imagination. I'm at peace now. My baby and I are together again. And once you're dead, it really doesn't matter what other people think of you. Let them say whatever they want. They still have to suffer through the rest of their life. But no one judges you in heaven. Everyone leaves you alone, even God."

She seemed finished, but neither she nor Michael moved an inch. Finally, after a long pause, she said, "I am so sorry, Michael. I really and truly am. Please don't spend the rest of your life hating me. And don't let the guilt of my murder rest on your shoulders. Remember: I'm happy now. I suffered through life, but I'm at peace in death. And I know that everyone who's ever done me wrong will end up in hell, unless they confess their sins before they go. Luckily for me, you didn't kill me right away. I had time. And now, I have all the time in the world to just be with my son and rest. Thank you." And, in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Michael shook his head. It had been so much at once, and he wasn't sure he could process it, at least not like this. No, he had to wake up and think. But he couldn't. He shook his head again. It didn't work. He pinched his arm. It hurt, but he still didn't wake up. He slapped himself as hard as he could. He was still in the warehouse, now with a stinging cheek.

Was it possible that it hadn't been a dream, that he'd been awake for all of it? That would explain why his arm and face now throbbed, but that the scene around him hadn't changed. But that was impossible. Claudia was dead. That dream had just been a product of his brain-damaged imagination. He would wake up. Just give it time.

But time passed, and nothing. He felt like he had sat there for hours, and he had. He wasn't going to wake up, because he was already awake.

And that could only mean one thing.

There was a ghost.


End file.
